Coffee With A Splash Of Doubt
by Zivacentric
Summary: Established Zibbs. Needing coffee is serious business for Gibbs, but is something more going on this morning - for both of them? How will the happy couple negotiate their first bump in the road? Why, with a little help from their friends, of course.
1. A little coffee with that doubt?

_A/N: So ... this little, ahem, "one-shot" jumped my muse about three weeks ago or so. At one point, I even thought I might just write-and-post it as I liked it, it's a different spin for me, and I, frankly, just wanted it to stop blocking other things. (Hello ... everyone remember "Waves of Grace" - ? Rest assured that I do, too!) _

_Alas, this little fic had other ideas. Turns out it will be three chapters *pauses while you ROFLYAO ... go ahead ... get it out of your system ...* Finished? Good. ;) As I was saying, it developed itself a little more than I thought it would (which I actually love) and it refused to give up the obsessive editing part. What was a gal to do? You know how I feel about listening to the story. __  
_

_I have taken Gibbs and Ziva out to play here differently that I ever have, at least in the first chapter. Some of you have perhaps read my recent "Angels in Disguise" (thanks!) which really highlighted their strength and confidence, even as they moved into a new aspect of their relationship without all the questions answered. Here, however, we explore their more vulnerable side. To me, the stories are not in the same universe. Rather, I view them as almost yin and yang, though not connected._

_ As you know, I see both Gibbs and Ziva as deeply emotional people. In addition to their strength, they both have a soft underbelly of vulnerability that they attempt to keep covered by a Kevlar turtle shell as often as possible. :) But, occasionally, the shell slips ... only to be yanked desperately back into place ... and then what? Well, if you read on, you'll find out the "then what," at least as far as this story goes. We are also reminded here that neither one of these characters we love is perfect. :)  
_

_Just FYI, when Tony mentions the Wizards below, he's referring to their local professional basketball team, the Washington Wizards._

_Enjoy!  
_

* * *

"Damn it, Ziva – didn't you pick up coffee last night?"

Ziva was sitting on the side of Gibbs' bed rubbing her eyes and struggling to come awake when her lover's clearly frustrated words floated up the steps.

_Oh, crap._

They'd been working overtime for over two weeks straight on three back-to-back, overlapping cases, not even making it home to either one of their beds – together or separately - on well over half the nights.

Two mornings ago, after using the last of the coffee grounds to make a pot of the dark, fragrant brew to get them started on the day, he'd sweet-talked Ziva into picking up more at the store, adding a nuzzle and a kiss to her neck for good measure. Like she could say no to _that_.

While Gibbs had been in the habit of just grabbing coffee on the way to work, he'd given that up in favor of sharing the first cup of the day with Ziva on the mornings they woke up together before they showered and dressed and headed to work.

And she'd forgotten to go to the grocery.

Granted, this was the first time they'd been home since then and they'd both been so tired last night, they'd barely had the energy to change clothes and brush their teeth before collapsing into bed.

But, still – this was the _coffee_.

Ziva stumbled to the top of the stairs wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and her panties, and plopped down on the first step so she could see him. She leaned her head tiredly against the wall and looked down to find him just as bleary-eyed as she was.

"You said you'd get coffee."

"I know. I forgot. I am sorry. I will stop tonight –"

"Tonight?!" he practically snarled. "Lotta good that's gonna do me right now." In his current exhausted state, his brain hadn't yet processed the fact that he could simply get a cup on his way into the office, as he used to do in the BZ era – Before Ziva.

And not only that, for some reason he was in a mood and spoiling for a fight.

He turned away, muttering, "Guess I need Rule 52: Want something done right, do it yourself."

"What did you say?" she snapped, lifting her head.

She'd been feeling apologetic-on-the-way-to-useless, but now she was pissed.

And hurt.

He just kept right on walking back to his coffee-less kitchen before he said something he'd regret.

Uh, actually – that ship had already sailed.

He'd put her back up enough that she found the energy to follow him.

"I did not deserve that," she pointed out almost aggressively – and accurately. "You are not the only one who is tired."

"No, but I was counting on you to stop at the store. You know I hate doing that."

Her disappointment in herself over her failure on this front only served to put her further on the defensive.

"Yes, but since when did it become only my job to make sure you have food and your precious coffee in your house?" she snarked, stressing the second _your_.

The air between them fairly crackled with negative energy.

"Been together eight months, Ziva – you practically live here."

And, truth was, without any formal arrangement, she did normally make sure there were groceries in the house – and he'd apparently gotten used to that.

"There is a big difference between _practically_ and _actually_," she pointed out, her heart hurting for a whole host of reasons – so she clung to her anger with a death grip.

"Yeah, well, if this is how it's gonna go, guess it's good it's not _actually,_" he threw back at her meanly.

Ziva paled and her eyes went wide for a second.

Some part of his caffeine-deprived brain finally engaged and ordered himself to _Shut up, Jethro – you're digging yourself a hole you don't mean and may not be able to climb out of._

But, apparently, it was too late on that, too.

"Well, then, I suppose it _is_ good we have figured out now that I am not reliable in this manner, is it not?" she observed in an icy tone that would have frozen the balls off a brass monkey. "Perhaps you should find someone else who will remember to take care of these things for you."

Ziva spun away, blinking back angry tears, her heart breaking.

_Maybe I should!_ hung unspoken, yet almost tangibly in the air. He managed to swallow the reflexive response, knowing he wouldn't mean a single word.

Fat lot of good his silence did him, though, when his feet stayed rooted to the floor.

In record-setting time, Ziva was dressed in her clothes from yesterday, slamming his front door closed and peeling out of his driveway while he hid in the kitchen like a coward.

Leaving him all alone in his house …

And feeling like an ass.

He released a long sigh and rubbed the back of his neck as his head fell forward.

_Way to go, Jethro._

Clearly that second _b_ in his name really was for bastard.

He'd perfected the art of pushing people away over the last couple of decades, but he didn't want to do that to her.

Not really.

He loved her.

And somehow …

Perhaps simply by the grace of a God he'd given up on …

She loved him back.

They had been finding their way together, navigating how to be lovers as well as co-workers, gradually dropping the barriers they both usually kept in place, and it had been good – and surprisingly easy.

Better than good. Fantastic.

And maybe … too easy?

Lately, part of him had been sure he was _too _happy and had been simply waiting for the other shoe to drop. Apparently that part had decided to push at her before she could do it first.

It wasn't as though she'd committed an unforgivable sin by forgetting the coffee that he'd been too tired to remember himself – especially since she was just as tired and overworked.

Besides, keeping groceries in the house really _wasn't_ her job … even if he'd like it to be for more reasons than one.

Even beyond that, he wanted this house to actually be her home, too – though he wanted it so badly that it scared the hell out of him.

What if he lost her?

Like that already wouldn't gut him like a fish regardless of where they each called home.

Being tired and in the early stages of caffeine withdrawal clearly weren't the only things working on him.

Sigh.

He went upstairs to shower and dress as he considered how to undo what he'd just done.

* * *

Ziva was not at her desk when Jethro arrived at work a short time later, a cup of coffee for each of them in his hands. He placed hers on her desk and went around to sit in his chair.

"Mornin', Boss," Tony said, glancing up from his computer.

Gibbs grunted.

DiNozzo's surprise at being the first one in this morning was compounded by speculation as he eyed Gibbs thoughtfully, but before he could say anything, Ziva and McGee walked off the elevator and the moment was lost.

"Hey, Boss, Tony," Tim said as he headed to his desk to drop his backpack and turn on his computer.

Gibbs stayed silent, so Tony stepped into the breach.

"Good morning, Probie. Zee-vah."

Ziva walked directly behind her desk, head down, avoiding eye contact with either her partner or her _partner_.

"Tony," she responded quietly, evenly.

Too evenly.

She stared at the cup of coffee on her desk for a moment with a carefully blank expression that gave nothing of her thoughts away, then dropped it into her trash can without a word.

_Ouch!_ Tony grimaced internally, sparing a glance at Gibbs who stoically refused to react or even look away from his computer.

Definitely trouble in paradise.

The only person who'd been surprised when Ziva and Gibbs had gotten together a while back had been Director Vance, and even he had seen the attraction that fairly sizzled between them. He'd just figured Gibbs would cling to that Rule Twelve of his like a lifeline.

In fact, Tony, Abby and Ducky had begun secretly discussing whether they'd live to tell about pulling an intervention where they would lock their two friends in a room, shout through the door that it was completely obvious they belonged together and then let the chips fall where they may, when Ziva had been hurt in the take-down of a suspect and the matter had taken care of itself in the aftermath of that.

Surprisingly, there had been remarkably few awkward moments on the job after Gibbs and Ziva had become lovers.

But this one was a doozy.

The morning dragged on, filled with the requisite paperwork involved in closing out their recent cases. Ziva found every excuse in the book to be away from her desk as much as possible.

Truthfully, she'd almost just called in sick when she'd gone to her apartment to change clothes, but her pride hadn't let her.

She kept her twice-weekly gym appointment with McGee over lunch. Ziva had been teaching him some hand-to-hand combat techniques at his request. Shortly after they left, Gibbs threw down his pen, grabbed his coat and headed to the elevator.

Tony slipped in just before the doors closed. As soon as the car started moving, he threw the emergency stop and leaned back against the panel of buttons in a seemingly casual stance.

Gibbs looked at him with a glare that would have made a lesser friend squirm – or run for the hills.

"Thought you might want to talk," Tony explained his presence, ignoring the visual head-slap he was receiving.

"'bout what?" Gibbs ground out.

"Oh, I don't know," Dinozzo responded airily. "The weather. Are the Wizards ever going to put together a winning season? Where _do_ Hobbits buy their clothes?" He caught Gibbs' hardened gaze. "Whatever's going on between you and Ziva."

A pregnant silence filled the car.

Tony just waited it out.

"Nothin'," Gibbs muttered and tried to reach for the button to start the elevator back up.

Tony refused to move out of the way.

"C'mon, Gibbs," Tony said flatly. "You and I have been together longer than either one of us has been with anyone else. Spill it."

Gibbs looked everywhere but at his senior agent for a long minute.

"Hadafight," he finally mumbled.

_Duh_.

"About what?" Tony persisted, trying to resist the urge to hurry this along. God, getting the man to talk would try the patience of a saint and while Anthony DiNozzo, Jr. had many stellar qualities, he'd never been mistaken for one of those.

Silence reigned for another moment.

"She forgot to get coffee."

Tony waited expectantly for the rest.

There had to be more.

Right?

When nothing else followed, the Very Special Agent nudged his boss. "And?"

"And nothin'."

"She forgot to get coffee," Tony repeated without inflection.

Gibbs just stared at him.

"Pretty sure that isn't a felony offense even if the answer's yes," Tony began, unknowingly echoing Gibbs' earlier thoughts, "but were you at her place?"

Jethro shook his head.

"Did I miss the announcement of her change of address to yours?"

"No," Gibbs grudgingly admitted.

"Yet somehow it's her job to get coffee for your house."

Even offered in a completely neutral voice, it sounded even more ridiculous when DiNozzo said it out loud. Gibbs had no response.

Tony's patience reached its limits.

"For the love of … Work with me here, Jethro - !"

Gibbs finally sighed and leaned back against the metal wall, eyes on the ceiling.

"Mighta said some things I didn't mean."

Uh-oh.

"Might have?" Tony asked, his eyebrows lifted.

The older man huffed out a breath, avoiding eye contact.

"Did."

Great. The one time the man hadn't managed to keep his mouth shut, he'd stuck his foot in it – apparently all the way up to his neck, if Ziva's demeanor was anything to go by.

And Tony knew his partner well enough to sense the deep hurt and uncertainty running underneath her anger.

DiNozzo considered the situation.

"This was first thing this morning?"

Gibbs nodded.

"If you woke up anything like I did, you were dead-dog tired, probably hungry and, on top of that, you were caffeine-deprived."

Gibbs nodded again.

Tony winced.

"That's a lethal combination for Leroy Jethro Gibbs," he pointed out.

That observation was met with silence.

"Anything else?"

Only someone who knew Gibbs well could have caught the faint shadow that crossed his eyes, his only response to the question.

"There's more," Tony asserted.

Further silence. Even less eye contact than before, if that were possible.

"I'm not letting you out of here until you tell me," DiNozzo informed him bravely. Or was it stupidly? He couldn't quite decide, but he cared too much about both Ziva and Jethro to just let it go.

Gibbs gave him a look that would have frozen sand and maintained his mutinous silence, fairly oozing _Make me_.

Tony knew a losing battle when he saw one.

"Okay, fine. But if you're not going to tell me, for God's sake, at least tell Ziva," he muttered. Then his voice strengthened. "What are going to do about all this?"

Gibbs gave the slightest of shrugs.

Damned if he knew.

All right, he _knew_. That didn't mean he had to say it out loud.

"Look, Gibbs. You and Ziva – you're great together. You can make this right, but it sounds like you'd better talk to her."

Jethro reluctantly nodded.

Tony hit the button and the car moved on down to the first floor. As Gibbs stepped out of the car, Tony held the door open.

"Suggestion, Boss?"

"What, DiNozzo?" Jethro asked in a long-suffering tone.

"Consider putting Rule Six on hiatus," he offered. If ever a situation called for an apology, Tony figured it was this one. "And don't take her any coffee when you do. Not your best idea there."

Despite his dour mood, Gibbs' lips twitched at Tony's reference to the cup of coffee that had ended up in Ziva's trash.

Gibbs nodded and moved to go.

Then he turned back.

"DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Thanks."

_TBC ..._


	2. Better Than Coffee

_A/N: I really thought this chapter was going to go up sooner, but then it got persnickety on me. I think I finally got it right. It's a marathon and not a sprint, so settle in for a bit of a read. There was no place I wanted to break this, so ... perhaps you won't mind. :)_

_This chapter is dedicated to abstractartist in memory of Katie, because sometimes we are abruptly, painfully reminded that, unlike Gibbs here, we do not get the chance to say all the things we wish we had and "unsay" any words we wish we hadn't. xoxoxo Since I had to wrestle with the chapter a bit, I can now also say it comes as a belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY gift to you, as well, my friend. =)  
_

_When I was first writing this, I actually typed "The End" at the end of this chapter ... but then the story had other ideas. There is at least one more chapter coming. Thank you for reading and reviews are greatly appreciated.  
_

* * *

When Jethro walked back into the bullpen nearly an hour later, Tim and Tony were both sitting at their desks, but there was no sign of Ziva. Still, Gibbs had a lighter heart and a plan for after work involving an apology, takeout from her favorite Chinese restaurant and maybe even flowers. He just hoped to hell it worked – and that he didn't end up wearing his peace offerings, even if he did deserve it.

Maybe he should throw in a back rub …

As soon as it was safe enough to get that close to her.

"Gibbs," Tim said, glancing up from his work as his boss sat down. "Ziva wanted me to tell you she wasn't feeling well and was going home for the afternoon."

Jethro's brow furrowed lightly in concern. Ziva normally worked herself into the ground before going home sick. He sighed. It wasn't like her to miss work over personal stuff, either. He'd really screwed up big time.

"Hope she's okay," McGee continued, seemingly off-handedly. "She didn't seem like herself when we were sparring … she was distracted, tired. Even got light-headed at one point."

Gibbs' head snapped up.

"Light-headed?"

"Yeah," Tim nodded. "Like, dizzy."

"And you just let her drive herself home like that? What were you thinking?!" Gibbs was out of his seat in a heartbeat. He grabbed his things and took the stairs, as that was faster than waiting for the elevator.

Tony looked at McGee, concerned.

"Sure her idea to drive herself home was a good one if she was light-headed?"

A secret smile played about McGee's mouth.

McGee had gotten just enough information out of Ziva to realize that she and Gibbs clearly needed to talk, and he could see her retreating more and more into herself as the day went on. Something needed to push them past the walls they were both so adept at building.

"Wasn't her idea, Tony." He paused for a beat. "And I might have lied about the dizzy part."

Tim looked over at his teammate, expressionless but for a faint gleam in his eye.

He felt slightly guilty about causing Gibbs unnecessary anxiety, but consoled himself with the text he'd received from Ziva that said she was home safe and sound, which her lover would soon see for himself after undoubtedly driving like a bat out of hell to get to her.

And if a little worry served to put things in perspective, well … so be it.

DiNozzo's eyes widened in surprise at Tim's admission. Then, he grinned with delight and let go a hoot of laughter.

In the next instant, his serious expression dropped into place and he stood. With that flair for the dramatic that no one could pull off quite like Tony, he brought his palms together in front of the center of his chest with his fingertips pointed to the sky and bowed from the waist toward his friend.

"Well-played, Probie-san. Well-played."

* * *

Gibbs tried calling Ziva as he got into his car, growing more worried when she didn't answer her phone. Driving with an urgency that had his heart thudding in his chest, he arrived at Ziva's apartment in record time, relieved to see her car there in one piece. He knocked on her door, but didn't even give her a chance to answer it before letting himself in with the key she'd given him months ago.

Everything else had fallen away for him but the mantra running through his head: _Let her be okay. Just let her be okay._

"Ziva?" he called out, shutting the door behind himself.

The subject of his query stepped into the living room wearing a long black silk robe, clearly coming from her bedroom.

"Jethro?" She pushed her hair back from her face as she questioned why he was there with that one word.

She looked exhausted and her eyes suggested she'd been shedding tears. After some gently insistent prodding from Tim, she'd come home and lain down with every intention of sleeping, but all she'd managed to do was cry.

Much to her disgust.

Gibbs was in front of her in a heartbeat, cupping her jaw gently with one hand.

The fear edging the worry in his eyes put a chink in the old, familiar armor she'd yanked back into place around her heart after this morning out of an instinctive need for self preservation.

"You all right?"

She seemed to be, so as often happens when deep love combines with intense-worry-followed-by-intense-relief, he didn't know whether to hug her or shake her.

Without waiting for her response, he waded in with both feet.

"What were you thinking, driving while you were dizzy? You could have had an accident - !"

The crack in her armor sealed itself right back up and her back stiffened. He'd seen that look before – this morning, in his kitchen.

"I believe you have yelled at me enough for one day. If that is all you are going to do, just leave." She started to walk away from him, then swiveled her head back toward him with her brow wrinkled in confusion. "And I was not dizzy. What are you talking about?"

Jethro opened his mouth to explain, then closed it without a word.

Give the guy a gold star for catching on quickly – in this, anyway.

Clearly, his team was looking out for them in spite of himself.

He closed his eyes and got a grip on his emotions. Blowing out an audible breath, he lifted his lids and all but begged her with his turbulent blue gaze to understand that he was sorry, that he'd been scared half out of his mind – in more ways than one – and that he loved her.

God, he loved her.

He stepped closer, thankful when she didn't take a step back, a step away. He reached for her hands, even more grateful when she let him lace their fingers together.

"McGee said …"

He paused.

"Was afraid something might have happened to you," he simply husked.

The raw emotion in his eyes, in his voice told her more than words that he wasn't sure he'd survive it if something did happen to her, and that smashed her protective walls to smithereens. She loved him too much not to be drawn toward soothing his pain.

"I am fine," she managed in a voice that broke. Then an attempt at a sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips, dulled her beautiful brown eyes. "Well, physically, anyway."

"Didn't mean to yell," he sighed. "Not now and not earlier."

Ziva softened and her body swayed toward his.

He tipped his forehead to hers.

Tony was right; this was no time for Rule Six.

"I'm sorry about this morning." He drew back just far enough to look into her eyes. "I was in a mood and way outta line."

Tears glistened in her eyes again.

"I am sorry, too," she husked emotionally. "And I do understand your frustration about the coffee … I let you down and I hate that."

Ziva gave his hands a squeeze, then stepped over to the window, staring out unseeingly. She knew she also needed to admit to the rest or it would fester – never a good thing. "But I cannot deny that some of the things you said … hurt me … and made me wonder ..."

He closed his eyes against the sting of emotion in them as her voice got more hesitant, smaller.

Gibbs stared at her for a moment before moving to stand right behind her. When she didn't move away, he placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him, their bodies not quite touching. Tilting her chin up, he spoke quietly.

"'m sorry, Ziva. Didn't mean any of it."

He pushed her hair back and gazed into her beautiful face.

"Big reaction to a little thing," he offered self-deprecatingly.

"Coffee is no small matter to you," she pointed out with a slight smile. Then her eyes grew more serious. "But your reaction was so … strong, that I thought perhaps you have become unhappy with me and it was just the stick that broke the camel's back."

One side of his mouth tilted up, despite the circumstances. "Straw."

She looked confused. "But a stick is heavier than straw."

"You're right," he agreed with the ghost of a smile. He loved the way she thought.

She released a long sigh and circled back to the issue at hand.

"I do not blame you for initially being angry earlier," she all-but-mumbled, eyes on the floor. "I said I would get the coffee and I did not. _Coffee_, Jethro. You need that like you need air and I know that about you. You deserve better than that – perhaps someone better than me."

The exhaustion they'd both been fighting was playing havoc with her emotional state and had something to do with his, as well. Her voice thickened.

"I do not really want you to find someone else, but why would you want –"

Her voice broke off abruptly.

The truth was, she couldn't quite decide if she was more upset with him or herself – but was pretty sure it was with herself. He _had_ hurt her this morning. However, on the drive home from work a bit ago, she'd veered from her hurt and her anger at him only to run smack dab into her wall of inadequacy over her domestic and relationship skills ... over her very worth.

Ultimately, what had pained her the most about his words this morning is that they'd unknowingly and unintentionally stuck a knife into that place inside her that had always known he was worthy of so much more than all that she brought to their relationship. She'd kept that knowledge locked in the darkest part of her soul in futile hope that he'd never figure it out.

Because she, too, had holes in her heart that had never fully healed, she could only believe that he finally had.

On the surface, she had promised to get coffee and she had disappointed him.

A small thing, surely, but perhaps it had larger implications.

He deserved someone who would take care of him. She wanted to … she just didn't think she did a very good job of it.

And in the world in which she'd been forged, mistakes were very, very costly.

He brought both hands up to cup her face. Tilting her gaze up to his, he gave her a gentle version of his characteristic smile as she blinked at the moisture pooling in her big brown eyes.

"Don't want anyone else," he declared softly, firmly. "And there _is_ no one better for me than you. You're my partner, Ziva, not my housekeeper. Been getting my own coffee for years; just 'cause you have me spoiled doesn't mean I should take it for granted."

Ziva sniffed, fighting a losing battle with her tears. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. She brought her hands up and grasped his forearms, unable to help kissing him back.

Gibbs lifted his head, shrugged off his coat and tossed it toward the nearest chair.

"C'mere."

He picked her up bridal style in a smooth move and carried her to the couch. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck as he sat and cradled her in his arms.

He laid his cheek on her hair and just held her for a long moment, allowing his world to slowly start righting itself once more.

After a moment, he thought back to the last thing she'd said.

"Why would I want what?"

She stayed quiet, then shrugged as she tightened her grip on him as though afraid he'd let her go.

"Talk to me, Ziver," he murmured against her forehead.

Her silence reverberated between them.

He suddenly understood that what she wasn't saying was very significant.

Gibbs buried his hand in her hair and tugged gently until she tilted her head so he could see her face.

"This is about more than coffee or me being a bastard."

After a pregnant pause, she nodded.

"Why would I want what?"

There was a heavy pause, then she finally answered.

"Someone like me … for always," she whispered, refusing to meet his eyes. Her shoulders drooped. "Someone who cannot … remember coffee."

Or probably do a whole host of other domestic things well, at least in the context of being one half of a couple.

Being a soldier, an assassin, an investigator … now those things she was very good at. However, those things did not build a home. And, despite what she'd found here in America, she still felt most valuable for what she could _do_ … failing to do something well meant she wasn't good enough.

That wasn't exactly news.

She already knew she wasn't good enough for him; she'd always known it.

He hugged her and searched for the right words, never his strong suit.

"More to a relationship than getting the groceries – even the coffee." He smiled slightly and dropped a kiss to her head, then lifted her face once more with one finger under her chin as his expression became tender, but serious. "But I don't think you're just talking about coffee."

Her eyes dropped.

She shook her head.

He placed his lips against her forehead in a gentle kiss.

"Know I don't make it easy on ya, but please tell me what's going on in that beautiful head of yours," he pleaded quietly against her skin.

After a long moment, she caved in … and opened up.

"Jethro," she whispered, bringing one hand up to cup his cheek. "I do not deserve you. I have been waiting for you to figure that out. Lately, I could tell there was something on your mind, a shadow in your eyes … and I was afraid to ask about it. After this morning, I thought perhaps you had finally realized that you should … end this with me."

His eyes widened a bit. She had to be kidding him.

But he could tell she wasn't.

Then he shook his head and hugged her tight.

"What a pair," he muttered, affection for her and disappointment in himself coloring his tone.

One thing was for sure, they were going to have to get better at this talking business, at least about the big stuff.

"You're right. You don't deserve me."

Her eyelids scrunched up tightly in a vain attempt to keep her tears in check as a sob caught in her chest. The tears only leaked faster as she felt his lips as soft as a butterfly's wing against first one cheek, and then the other, catching the diamond-like drops trailing down her face. Then his lips settled near her ear.

"You _deserve_ someone younger who isn't such a bastard, but damned if I can give you up."

Ziva's eyes flew open and he lifted his head to smile at her so lovingly that now the tears were overflowing their banks for a completely different reason.

"You are everything I want," he assured her quietly, cupping the side of her face and brushing one thumb over her cheek while looking her steadily in the eye. "Exactly as you are. And I'm happier with you than I've been in forever."

He wished he could do or say something that would erase the hint of doubt still clouding her expression.

"Mean that, Ziver."

She dashed at the moisture on her cheeks and tried to grab hold of the hope rising within her before it got out of hand. He tried again, his words curling through her, searching out those places that needed healing.

"Wish you could see yourself the way I see you – smart, strong, beautiful, gutsy … and the only person I've ever known who really understands even the dark stuff that pulls at me because you've been there, the one person who's not afraid to meet me there and bring me back here. With you."

He seemed so certain. She wanted to believe him so much, but …

"You are sure?"

He nodded with that half-smile that had stolen her heart.

"I'm sure," he swore, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Do you think … possibly even … for always? In spite of … who I am?" she breathed hesitantly, unable to help herself. She closed her eyes and shook her head, suddenly afraid to hear his answer, if he even had one. "Never mind. I –"

"Look at me, Ziver."

Guardedly, she complied.

"Definitely for always," he promised. "Because of exactly who you are."

There was no room for even a shred of doubt in his voice. A slow, beautiful light began to glow in her eyes as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him close.

"I still think you should have more, but I cannot let you go," she whispered raggedly. "Not unless that is what you need."

"Never gonna need that," he declared warmly.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her back, grateful to be getting a chance to make things right between them.

And if he was really going to do that, he needed to come clean on his demons, too … the part he had refused to admit out loud to DiNozzo.

"You're right about something being on my mind." He paused, then pushed himself on. "Been sure you or fate was gonna figure out you could do better than a cranky old man with more experience at pushing people away than letting them in. Guess that was working on me, too, this morning." He paused. "Even before that."

Ziva leaned her head back so she could look at him.

She wasn't completely surprised given what had happened to Shannon, but still … she'd have bet her paycheck that that concern mainly went the other way around.

"Don't wanna lose you."

_Can't lose you, too._

And yet he knew it could happen anyway … in a manner he could do nothing about ... which brought him to his knees.

Her heart stumbled. She wouldn't have believed it possible, but, somehow, she loved him even more.

She understood all that he didn't say with those four words he murmured into her hair and tears stung at her eyes as her heart ached for this man who'd lost so much and had tried so hard to protect himself from that again … and had let her into his heart, anyway.

He believed she was all that he wanted, all that he needed. Perhaps he could believe it enough for both of them until she could trust it, too.

She cupped his face gently in her hands and looked at him steadily, with love.

"I will not promise you something I have no control over and I would never hold you to a relationship in which you were unhappy, but I can promise that I will never _willingly_ leave you for as long as you want me."

He looked into her big brown eyes, marveling at the way she loved him.

No one could predict the future. All they'd been through would always stay with them both, but it was time to finally live fully in the present.

Time for another leap of faith.

"Remember what you said about the difference between practically and actually?" he asked.

She froze as she realized he was talking about living together. She slowly nodded, holding her breath.

"What would you say if I said I want you to actually live with me? Not just practically."

Her heart thudded against her ribs.

"I would say I want that, too," she husked, her eyes locked on his.

That full-blown smile of his that cast sunshine into even the darkest corners of her world curved his lips and he began to truly relax for the first time since their harsh exchange earlier.

Gibbs wrapped his long fingers around the back of her neck and smoothed his thumb along her jaw.

"And what would you say if I asked you to marry me?" he questioned her in a low, tender voice that rolled through her, warming her deliciously.

Her breath caught and she couldn't speak for a moment.

"I will probably forget the coffee again sometimes," she pointed out shakily, her heartbeat _swooshing_ in her ears, her need to make sure he realized what he was getting into outweighing her overwhelming urge to drag him off to the nearest rabbi before he could change his mind.

"Prob'ly," he smiled. "And I'll be a jerk again sometimes. Want you to marry me anyway."

Ziva stared into his face hardly daring to breathe, searching for any doubt in his eyes.

She found none.

"Why?" she whispered.

That smile of his peeked out once more. She could be such a _thinker_, his Ziver.

"Because I love you," he told her. "And want to tie you to me every way I can."

"I am so in love with you," she released on a breath, her heart in her eyes. "Even the thought of being without you leaves me feeling like half of me is missing – the best half."

"Same here," he returned with a tender curve to his lips.

A question of his own nagged to be answered.

"Even when I'm being an idiot?"

Now who needed reassurance?

A breathless chuckle pushed past the lump of emotion in her throat.

"Even then," she whispered, resting her forehead against his.

His voice softened as he asked again, "So will you?"

Ziva lifted her head from his and nodded, happy tears beading down her cheeks.

"Yes," she whispered. Then she grabbed him up tightly, _never_ wanting to let go. "Yes, yes, yes!"

_Thank God_ he thought just before he slowly took her mouth in a seemingly-endless series of kisses that gradually deepened … loving, affirming kisses that spoke of forever and hoped it lasted a really, really long time.

When he lifted his head at long last, Ziva practically collapsed against him, emotionally spent. He heaved a deep sigh she could feel and the last of his tension left his body, too. Jethro tucked his face into that sweet, sensitive spot where her shoulder met her neck.

"Was afraid I pushed you away this morning. Promise you won't let me, even when I get …"

_Scared_.

"You are absolutely certain that I am what you want?" she asked one last time.

He nodded against her.

"Then I promise." She pressed a kiss to his hair with a small smile. She didn't deserve him, but he wanted her to keep him anyway. "You know, I do not expect you to be perfect, Jethro, even though you have been mostly that, for me."

"Don't put me on a pedestal, Ziver; I'll just fall off." Then he suggested wisely, "And do us both a favor and don't expect perfection out of yourself either."

"That is harder," she admitted wryly, "but I will try. And I will also attempt to convince myself that you are only human, contrary to popular opinion."

He snorted just before she bent her head and pressed a soft, smiling kiss to his mouth. When she would have kept it brief, he followed her, capturing her lips with his in a kiss that went on and on until she would have sworn even their souls were curled around each other, two halves now complete.

"Had this whole apology thing planned out for later," he admitted almost bashfully when he finally lifted his head again. "Was gonna bring you Chinese – maybe even flowers – and hoped you wouldn't hit me with 'em. Even give you a back rub if you let me close enough to do it."

A tiny, happy smile lifted her cheeks.

"_You_ were actually planning to apologize?"

He nodded.

"Tony said I should." She laughed at his mumbled words as his eyes gleamed. His expression sobered. "He was right."

"Well, that part is out of the way, and nicely done, I might add." She bumped her nose against his affectionately. "We can still order Chinese later," she offered with an easy smile. "And I promise not to dump it on you." Then her voice softened. "And perhaps you could give me flowers sometime … just because."

She laid her cheek against his chest.

"My head says that is not a very practical way for you to spend your money, but …" He had to strain to hear her finish. "… in here …" Her fingertips touched her chest over her heart. "… I think that it might … be lovely."

"Might be?" he asked softly, curiously.

She lifted her shoulders slightly. "I do not actually know. I have never received flowers before." She looked up at him, her tone becoming matter-of-fact. "Apparently I do not inspire that urge in my dates."

To say he was floored would have been an understatement.

"That's not about you," he assured her quietly. "That's about the guys you've been seeing." He was clearly including himself in that judgment. Then his voice firmed. "But you're stuck with this one, so I'll try to do better."

Her loving smile made his heart beat faster.

"This morning may not have been your finest hour – or mine – but you are doing just fine, with or without the flowers," she assured him. "And you are stuck with me, too."

"Lucky me," he murmured, bending his head to kiss her again, licking his way inside her mouth to slide his tongue sensuously against hers. As his lips moved to her cheek, he smoothed a hand over her silky robe, enjoying the feel of the material and her well-toned body underneath. "Did I wake you up?"

She shook her head.

"I wanted to sleep, but all I could do was cry." She rolled her eyes at herself, but snuggled in close to him, seeking comfort.

"Could try taking a nap together," he suggested, though the way he kissed her neck and cupped her breast suggested he had something other than sleeping on his mind.

Being tired, worried and missing his coffee weren't the only things wrong with him this morning. He was also feeling seriously Ziva-deprived. With their recent work schedule and limited sleep, they hadn't had sex in more than two weeks.

She moaned and arched into his touch.

"I believe you mentioned the possibility of a back rub …?" she asked breathlessly.

"Mmhmm," he hummed against her skin.

"I would definitely let you get close enough for that," she purred. She bent her head to rub the side of her face against his. "I would even return the favor."

His sexy groan and the way his body hardened beneath her thigh said he was undeniably on board with that plan.

"I have missed you like this," she husked against his skin. "It has been far too long since we made love."

She had that right. Too damn long.

"Seventeen days," he put in firmly.

"You counted?" she asked, lifting her head to look at him in slightly shocked surprise, delight running beneath her question.

"Hell, yeah," he affirmed. "Tonight would make it eighteen, but 'm really hoping we don't make it that far. Clearly, my disposition can't take it."

Ziva was absolutely thrilled and charmed by his admission. Her lips curved alluringly.

"We certainly will not make it to eighteen if I have anything to say about it," she confirmed in a voice that skittered down his spine, nuzzling her face against his throat. "In fact, perhaps we could make love … then nap …" She scraped his ear with her teeth before she finished her sultry suggestion. "… then wake up and make love again."

He shuddered and swallowed. Hard.

"Now _that's _better than waking up to coffee," he observed in a smoky voice that had her melting even further. His tone was slightly joking, but his heated eyes said he meant every word.

She laid her hand against his forehead as though checking for a fever.

"Better than coffee?" she asked, questioning whether she should completely believe that or not.

"Oh, yeah," he swore, kissing her brainless.

"Then perhaps I have what it takes to keep you, after all," she teased breathlessly, her warm breath caressing his lips as she pressed her chest against his provocatively.

He stood with her in his arms and headed toward her bed.

"No doubt about that."


	3. No Room For Doubt

_Three weeks later …_

Team Gibbs sat at their desks working on cold cases. Their recent flurry of case activity had given way to a welcome lull that honestly might get boring if it lasted much longer.

It was nearing the end of their shift and Ziva was happily counting down the minutes, but not out of boredom. Tonight, she and Jethro were going to move the last of her things from her apartment into his house.

No, not _his _house.

_Their_ house.

Her heart swelled and she practically danced in her seat. She could honestly say she had never been happier, especially every time the ring that now sparkled on her left hand caught her eye.

They'd woken up wrapped around each other in her tangled sheets the morning after their argument that had actually served to bring them even closer by uncovering their deepest fears, allowing those to see the light of day. While his worry that she'd suddenly be taken from him and her certainty that she didn't deserve him would surely raise their heads again, sharing those had gone a long way toward easing those particular doubts.

After making slow, languid love again before they were even fully awake, they'd simply lain there together for a while, still connected, just absorbing each other.

* * *

_Flashback_

"Got anything going on today?" Jethro murmured, his eyes still closed as his hand drifted lazily up and down her beautiful, sexy back as she lay draped across his chest.

"Just work," she released on a sigh, snuggling a little more closely into him. She'd be perfectly content if she never had to move from this spot.

"Whadya say we take some personal time?" he asked, tilting his head to look down at her.

She leaned her head back to capture his gaze, surprise clearly evident in her eyes.

"Today?"

He nodded in response to her question.

"Together?"

Gibbs nodded again with just a hint of that half-smile that always made her weak in the knees.

"But we have never done that," she pointed out slowly.

"First time for everything," he responded, his characteristic tug to his lips deepening.

That beautiful smile of hers that never failed to brighten even his cloudiest, moodiest day slowly lit up her face, happiness fairly beaming from her eyes.

"I would love that," she husked, squeezing him tightly with the arm she had thrown across his waist.

Eventually, they moved from the bed to the kitchen, with Gibbs taking a detour to call Vance and tell him they were taking the day off, though the team could call them in if needed.

Ziva had been spending more time at his place than her own for months now, so her cupboards were pretty bare. She did, however, have coffee, she announced cheekily with a twinkle in her eye. They shared a chuckle and the fact that they could do so already warmed her heart.

Then his expression softened, his eyes turned tenderly serious as he cupped her cheek in one hand.

"All I really need is to wake up next to you," he shared quietly, capturing her gaze.

Her heart melted and she swayed into him.

Sometimes he didn't say much at all …

And sometimes he said the most _perfect_ things.

"But since you've got some …" His eyes revealed his sense of humor as they gleamed brilliantly at her. "Maybe we could make it anyway?"

She laughed and wrapped her arms around him to squeeze him affectionately.

"Most certainly."

Turned out, he had more on his mind than personal time. After showering together and taking her to breakfast at his favorite diner, Gibbs started driving in a direction that would not take them back to her apartment or to his house. He clearly had a destination in mind, though he mysteriously refused to give up any details.

When he parked in front of a small, family-owned jewelry store a short while later, she turned to him in amazement, her pulse fluttering wildly.

"You said yes," he reminded her with a gentle smile, a faint shadow of vulnerability behind his eyes as he tucked her hair behind her left ear.

"And I meant it," she whispered, her heart in her own eyes.

He relaxed, relieved she wasn't having second thoughts.

"Want my ring on your finger," he husked, gazing into her big brown eyes. "Want everyone to know you're mine."

"So do I," she admitted emotionally.

She cupped his cheek in her hand and pulled him to her for a thorough, loving kiss.

When she released his mouth, he suggested, "Then let's go shopping."

Who'd have thought Leroy Jethro Gibbs would ever say those words with a smile on his face and a happy twinkle in his eye?

The elated sound she couldn't hold in danced lightly on the air as she threw her arms around his neck and held him close.

The shop owner, Mr. Perlman, was a friendly, dapper older gentleman with enough experience in this business to strike exactly the right balance between being instantly available and giving them space to browse and consider. Ziva and Jethro took their time, steeping themselves in the joy and pleasure of the occasion.

There was one ring that spoke to both of them as soon as they laid eyes on it and they both fell in love with it instantly. Fortunately, Mr. Perlman had that one in her size and the diamond had not left her finger since Jethro had slipped it on her hand.

In perfect agreement, they impulsively decided to get the team together for lunch to announce their big news. Ziva called Tony and asked him to round up everyone, and confirmed they'd meet up in a couple of hours near NCIS at one of their preferred lunchtime haunts.

Ziva and Gibbs got there first and secured a table big enough to accommodate all of them. The couple rose to their feet as Abby, Ducky, Tim, Tony and Palmer arrived with unspoken questions in their eyes. Jethro stood behind Ziva with his hands on her shoulders; her left hand was tucked into the pocket of her jeans as she leaned lightly against him.

As Tony and Tim walked up to them, Gibbs reached out both hands and gave them a tandem head-slap. They looked at him in surprise.

"What was that for?" Tony asked somewhat grumpily. He hadn't done anything this morning to deserve that.

Well, maybe he had, but Gibbs hadn't been there to witness it.

"That was for cornering me in the elevator …" He gave Tony a brief version of his patented glare, then moved it to McGee. "… and for lying to me about Ziva being dizzy."

Both guys fought not to squirm.

"Boss –"

Ziva interrupted Tim.

"And this," she began, stretching up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Tony's cheek, "is for cornering him in the elevator …" She turned and bussed Tim's cheek, as well. "And for lying about the dizzy part."

Then, she leaned fully back against Gibbs, both of them grinning with twinkling eyes as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Everyone chuckled, setting the perfect tone for an enjoyable lunch together, the high point of which was the announcement that they were getting married.

"Wow, that must have been some terrific make up se-" Tony started with an incredulous laugh, until a look from both Ziva and Gibbs stopped him cold. "Making up. Must have been some terrific making up."

Ziva's lips twitched.

"You are right, Tony." Then she put her lips to her partner's ear since he was sitting right next to her. "On both counts."

DiNozzo had just taken a sip of his water and practically spat it across the table at the words Ziva whispered into his ear.

Laughter flowed around the table.

All in all, it had been a very promising beginning to forever_._

* * *

_Back to the present …_

"Agent David?"

Ziva looked up from the report she'd been studying to find one of the runners at her desk.

Holding an armful of what could only be a floral delivery.

Her heart started pounding with such force that it leapt somewhere up into the vicinity of her throat.

"Yes?" she managed, her gaze locked on the green tissue paper that was hiding whatever was inside.

"These just came for you," the young man said.

He made a gesture that suggested he was looking for a place on her desk to set the delivery down.

Ziva snapped out of her shock and quickly cleared a spot right in the center of her desk.

"Thank you," she murmured distractedly, her attention clearly on the gift in front of her. She stood to remove the tissue paper, not even noticing as the man charged with making the delivery walked away.

She slowly uncovered her very unexpected surprise, savoring every second, committing everything about this moment to memory.

As the thin paper gave up its secret, her heart stuttered, then resumed its beating in double time.

Before her sat the most gorgeous arrangement of roses she'd ever seen.

A dozen dark, rich red flowers stood elegantly tall in their emerald green vase, the arrangement set off to perfection with light, fanciful baby's breath and pine-dark greenery.

A card was tucked among the blooms. She reached for it, unable to resist breathing in the heady scent as she did.

She was fully aware of Gibbs' eyes on her, but the rest of the world completely fell away as she removed the small card from the white envelope.

_Just because ~ Love, Jethro_

A delighted grin curved her mouth as a happy noise escaped her throat. She clasped the card to her chest as she bent to smell the roses again, trying to hide the tears pooling in her eyes.

Once she had some sort of grip, she straightened and murmured something about being right back. Without looking directly at any of her teammates, she practically floated to the elevator, taking the card with her.

Gibbs waited a moment, then announced, "Going for coffee."

Tony actually snorted. _Yeah, right._

Jethro let that slide, too intent on catching up to his fiancée to respond.

He punched the elevator button and it immediately opened to reveal Ziva leaning with mock casualness against the wall. She'd closed the doors, but hadn't chosen a floor, so the elevator hadn't moved. Luckily, no one else had called the elevator to another floor, but she'd have just stayed right where she was if they had until the car brought her back to Jethro, trusting he'd be on the other side of the sliding doors very soon.

She was right.

Gibbs entered the car and pushed the button to send it to the ground floor.

Just as it started moving, Ziva stepped right in front of him, walking him backwards until she could reach the emergency stop button. For the first time since they'd been together, in a smooth move she punched the button that plunged them into dim light and brought the car to a halt, even as she pulled his mouth down to hers with one hand on the back of his neck. Her other hand came up to clutch the lapel of his sport coat, managing to retain a careful hold on her note.

The kiss started warm and soft, but didn't stay that way. It deepened into hot and moist and full of feeling, reducing their worlds to only each other.

When she finally released his mouth, she tucked her face into his throat, too overcome with emotion to speak.

"Take it you like the flowers?" he murmured against her temple with a smile.

She nodded emphatically, her eyes closed against the tears that still threatened.

"'m glad," he told her, turning his head to press a kiss to her hair.

"Thank you," she whispered in a voice gone husky with emotion.

"You're welcome." His heart was as happy as hers, just from watching her reaction.

Ziva tilted her head back to look up at him adoringly.

"But I was wrong about something," she revealed softly.

He lifted a brow in question.

"Getting flowers from you does not feel lovely." Her voice was almost neutral now, catching his interest.

"No?'

She shook her head.

"It feels …" A broad, completely elated smile stole across her face. "FanTAStic!"

With an enchanted laugh that snagged his heart, she jumped up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, counting on him to catch her.

He did.

Gibbs chuckled as she pressed a dozen tiny kisses all over his face.

She pulled back slightly to catch her breath and cupped his face in both hands. He turned and rested her bottom against the rail along the side of the car as he held her to him tightly.

"Actually, it feels better than fantastic," she husked, losing the battle with her tears as she stared into his handsome face. "I love them – and I love you. So much."

She rested her forehead against his.

"And you love me back," she whispered, wonder clearly evident in her tone.

"Got that right," he promised her, the timbre of his voice rich with feeling.

They shared another long kiss, one that was long and slow and promised forever with no room for doubt.

She laid her head on his shoulder when they pulled apart, both content just to hold each other for a moment.

"Do you think we could go home soon?" she sighed out softly.

"Sure. Why?" he asked with a small smile.

"Because if we do not, you are going to get lucky in this elevator," she informed him with a sexy humor that stirred his body. "Which would be a fantasy come true if there were not still so many people around."

He grinned – and tucked that little gem of information away for future reference.

Maybe there'd be a first time for that, too.

"Oh? What'd I do to deserve that?" he asked flirtatiously, unabashedly fishing for compliments.

She lifted her head and gazed into those mesmerizing blue eyes that were gleaming playfully.

But the emotion filling Ziva's heart near to bursting was anything but lighthearted. She was nearly overcome by the powerful rush of love that cascaded through her for this wonderful - though not perfect - man who miraculously, against all odds, adored her in return.

"Everything," she told him in serious response to his question, pushing past the lump of emotion blocking her throat, all that was perfect in his world shining from her eyes. "And nothing."

She tipped her forehead to his.

"Just by being you and …"

She tightened her grip on him, vowing to never let go.

"Just because."

_~ The End ~_

* * *

_A/N: Thank you all for joining me on this little "sidebar" journey into my Zibbs world. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I'd like to dedicate this last chapter to all of you who have recently put me, this story or any of my other stories on alert and/or in your favorites. I like to respond to each of you individually as I do with reviews, but RL and writing are absorbing much of my time. Hopefully, you'll accept this blanket THANK YOU, as I really do appreciate that very much. xoxoxo Take care and thanks to everyone for reading! =)  
_


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